


Murphy's Cops Law #44

by Python07



Series: Murphy's Cops Laws [39]
Category: Robin Hood (2010)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-04
Updated: 2015-02-04
Packaged: 2018-03-10 09:55:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3286025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Python07/pseuds/Python07
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Small fic based on Murphy's Cops Law #44: You’re right, there is no Justice, Just Us.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Murphy's Cops Law #44

He was a middle aged fat man with thin gray hair and a bald spot at the top of his head. He refused to cower on his knees like his guards. He glared at the ruffian who shoved him. “Do you devils have any idea who I am?” he demanded.

The group of ruffians circled him. They were armed with bows and arrows and swords. The tallest of them carried a large, heavy battle hammer.

One stepped closer, his bow drawn. He lightly poked the man in his ample gut. He grinned, baring all of his teeth. “Yes. It’s an honor to meet you, Bishop August. And do you know who we are?”

Bishop Cornelius August fearlessly straightened up and nudged the arrow point. It barely tore his expensive robe but he took no notice. “Common thieves.”

“Not so common,” the spokesman snickered. He lowered his bow and bowed. “Allow me to introduce myself. Robin Longstride.”

August sniffed distastefully. “Robin of the Hood. Like I said, a common thief.”

Robin waved towards August’s terrified guards. “You must be hauling something of value to have such company.”

“Nothing of interest to you.”

“I believe that you’re mistaken.” Robin grinned wider and pointed towards August’s wagon with the end of his bow. “I believe your load is too heavy. Allow us to lighten it for you.” 

August clenched his fists at his sides. “Have you no shame,” he ground out.

“None at all. Shame is a luxury we can’t afford.” 

“Is it just to rob men of God?”

“You’re right. There is no justice, just us.” Robin nodded towards a man with red hair and bright blue eyes. “Will, see what our distinguished friend is carrying.”

“That belongs to the Church,” August sputtered indignantly.

Will jumped into the wagon and threw the cloth covering aside to reveal two locked chests. “What do we have here,” he singsonged.

Robin smirked. “The key please, Bishop.”

August set his jaw. “No.”

The man with the large hammer stepped forward and glared menacingly. “Let me get it from him, Robin.”

Robin patted the man’s shoulder. “No need, Little John,” he answered merrily. “We wouldn’t want to stain those splendid robes with blood. You have a go at the lock.”

Little John grinned savagely. “Aye, Robin.”

Will moved the larger chest to the edge of the wagon. Little John stood a few front in front of it. He swung his massive hammer down onto the lock and broke it off.

Will opened the lid and let out a whoop. He picked up and gold coin and tossed it to Robin. “The chest is full of them.”

Robin caught the coin and held it up to catch the light. “I knew that you were being modest. I knew that you’d have something of interest, Bishop.”

August stepped up to Robin. “Those are offerings from the faithful. Many of them give more than they should,” he said earnestly. 

“And do you keep more than you should?” Robin challenged.

August met Robin’s gaze without flinching. “My order is not a rich one.”

“And how do you afford your robes?” Robin asked. “And your bodyguard?”

“The robes were a gift from His Holiness when I undertook a pilgrimage to Rome two years ago.”

The men guffawed but Robin was silent. He looked August up and down. August’s robes were indeed finely made but they were beginning to fade and fray at the edges. Some areas had been patched by a skilled hand.

August threw a half frustrated, half pitying look at his men. “As far as my bodyguard is concerned, they are all village boys from the town just outside our abbey. They volunteered to accompany me.”

“Why are you wearing your fine robes for travel?” Robin asked curiously.

August rolled his eyes. “We had a small mishap yesterday and I was forced to change.”

Robin glanced at the guards and saw that their clothes were splattered with mud. He smiled. “I see.”

“Let’s see what’s in this one, hey,” Will called and held up the second chest. It was smaller. Fine enamel work covered the outside.

August clutched Robin’s arm. “Not that one.”

“Oh, there must be something good in here,” Will yelled. He set it down and motioned to Little John.

Little John raised his hammer. “That puny thing will shatter.” 

August clutched Robin’s arm tighter. “Wait,” the Bishop said in a low and compelling voice. “You’ll damage it.”

Robin tilted his head to the side and studied August. “Damage what?”

August sighed heavily and took a key from around his neck. He walked up to the box and glared at Little John and Will until they both involuntarily took a step back. He slowly slid the key into place and opened it. He reverently lifted out a life sized gilded statue of a hand.

A collective gasp went up. “Is it solid gold?” someone shouted.

“No. It’s made of wood. Only the outer covering is gold.”

Robin stood by August’s side for a closer look but didn’t move to take the object. “What is it?”

August cradled it in his arms. “It’s a reliquary. It holds bones from St. Aristobulus. He was the first to bring the Gospel to our shores. We keep these remains safe in our abbey and the saint blesses us with his presence.”

“Why are you traveling with it?”

“We’re taking it to feast day celebrations by order of the Archbishop.”

“We could melt down the gold,” someone suggested from the crowd.

August’s face paled but Robin held a hand up. “No,” Robin answered. He didn’t shout but his clear voice carried. “We’re not heathens.” He turned to August. “Take the saint where he needs to go. You’ll have safe passage through the forest the rest of your journey and on your way home.”

August sighed in relief and placed the reliquary back in its box. “And the coins?”

Robin grinned. “Those we keep. We’ll use them wisely. I give you my word. I’d say that’s fair under the circumstances, wouldn’t you Bishop?”

August inclined his head. “Very well. I accept your word.”

“Not a common thief then.”

August cracked the barest smile. “No, not common.”


End file.
